Peaceful, Joyful, White

Lots of white stuff fell in the last twenty-four hours. Beautiful. Peaceful. The earth's axis is working again! My husband is miserable and yes, I'm sorry for him. He left PA at age thirty-eight, bound for California. He'd had enough of the white stuff. He married me when he was almost 41 years old, and I guess I betrayed him when I suggested we move to Ohio, where I had some family.

It seemed to make sense; one of my aunts here is a strong Christian, and we were trying to raise a baby and preschooler while I worked part-time from home with a lovely, sweet, but unreliable college student as a two-times weekly, four-hour babysitter (while I went to campus twice a week). I was newly pregnant, too, which was the catalyst for change (I miscarried at 10 weeks).

He never objected and agreed it made sense, but he did mention the weather several times. I suggested we try other cheap states, where I might be able to stay home with the children. Cheap states don't come with CA weather...ever notice that? Property is fairly cheap in tornado alley.

So we moved as soon as school let out, grieving all the while over another baby loss. We lived off the substantial housing profit we'd made, until husband found a job--something not quite so difficult back then. Yes, it was risky, but if God didn't want it, why did the house sell at all?

I'd visited here in May and found this house within a few days (back when loans were easy to get, with just good credit and enough down). We moved in eight days after our arrival, staying with my aunt in the meantime.

The staying-with-my-aunt part was quite the mistake. Understatement.

Peter, 3.5 at the time, didn't adjust well. He was a nightmare and Paul, the baby, was out of sorts as well. Escrow should have closed before our arrival, and my husband and me were dealing with stresses beyond just the children. It took my aunt a very long time to get her first impressions out of her head. It was rough here for awhile. I've often wished we'd gotten a cheap hotel those first eight days.

I think it's fair to say husband's never quite forgiven me, or the Lord, for this move. The house sold in two weeks (before the miscarriage) so it seemed to be what the Lord wanted way back then, but who knows?

I never knew how big an issue the weather was, until we'd moved. 

Anyway, today? The rest of us feel complete joy to see the peaceful puffs of white...at last! Take your joy where you can. Pray for the miserable, but don't let them rob you of joy. If you're married to a glass half-empty person, you know what I mean. The Lord often pairs the glass half-empty types with the glass half-full types. Balance is what He likes.

There's one thing I keep in mind when the weather gets him down: If it's not the weather, it's something else. No, this isn't a personality flaw I'm talking about. My husband is very personable, to my shy and quiet. He's also a wonderful, dedicated husband and father, with great faith. He's affectionate and loving.


It's simply a different way to look at the world. He didn't choose the lens through which he views, anymore than I did. When I want to roll my eyes, that always comes back to me. He didn't choose the downside. It's genes, like so many things we contend with in our daily lives.

When I hear negative people put down as a group, I grieve. It isn't a personality flaw; it's not something they can pray out of, or even count blessings out of. It's just their bent--like my bent is nervousness. I can't make a nervous disposition go away, as hard as I try.

Take your joy and don't feel guilty, no matter who you live with. There's no other way to live.

I made him his favorite cookie. He's very happy with these delectable morsels, but alas, they didn't take away his pining for the west as the snow piled up.
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My oldest wanted to make me a blanket. So many ideas here in these four young minds. It's not usable, but I love it anyway.

Oh, how I love these munchkins!

A sleepy girl enjoying Daddy's words and warmth.

I checked out a boatload of snow-themed picture books. Time to go enjoy!

A Little Whisper

2 Timothy 3:16
All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness,

Romans 15:4
For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through endurance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope. 

Dear Friend,

Have you opened your Bible today? Open it and let God's breath breathe life, love, and peace into your heart and life. Just open it. Let Him do the rest. January is Open Your Bible month here on the blog. Put an x on your calendar for every day you open your Bible in January. (I have my own kids doing it too). Aim for 30 times but never let it be an all or nothing endeavor. If you don't open it for five days, open it the sixth day as if it were the first day. God is always open to new beginnings. He'll take you right where you're at! No questions asked, no condemnation.

As I wrote previously, my word of the year is balance. That means I write short posts or no posts, as I seek to find balance in my daily life, caring for Beth's arthritis needs and everything else.

What is your word?

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Are You Spiritually Mature? A Test For You

2 Corinthians 13:5
Examine yourselves to see if your faith is genuine. Test yourselves. Surely you know that Jesus Christ is among you; if not, you have failed the test of genuine faith.

Are you spiritually mature, or still a baby Christian? Even if you've been attending church your whole life, you could still be a baby Christian. 

How can you ascertain whether or not you're spiritually mature? For brevity sake, we will only cover two ways.

1.  Do you believe the Bible is absolute truth and useful for teaching, but you rarely open it, except for Sunday service? A spiritually mature person acts out their faith. If you rarely open your Bible, you're spiritually immature.

2.  If someone asks you what spiritual lesson you're learning right now, can you give an answer? A spiritually mature person is always growing and learning. If you can't tell someone what you're learning, you're spiritually immature.

Make 2012 the year you become spiritually mature. No one ever arrives, but we must be on the journey. Always. Stop making excuses. I know you have the time because I know God. He would never overburden you.

Put a small x on your calendar for every day you open your Bible in January. I don't care how much you end up reading at this point. Just open that Bible 30 times in the month of January. God will do the rest.

Ready, set, go!

Happy New Year, friend! I love you and I want you to grow in Christ this year. Pray for your husband each time you open your Bible, that he will grow too and be able to lead you spiritually.

Choosing Your Word

A homeschooling friend who, like me, parents two special-needs children, writes:

"My mother has had rheumatoid arthritis for 25 years. I'm slowly going down that road but I'm fighting it with everything I've got. My brother has already been diagnosed."

How I live that sentence..."I'm fighting it with everything I've got."

I have a strong family history of anxiety disorders--mainly Generalized Anxiety Disorder, which my Peter has. My brother, several cousins, and my mother, have related driving phobias. They must take an anti-anxiety medicine to use freeways. My maternal grandfather had agoraphobia and quit working well before retirement age.

At least five times in the last ten years, I've come close to needing an anti-anxiety med myself. Each time, I fought the pull of my genes. Not me. Over my dead body...it isn't going to happen to me.

In early December we went to a hospital building for Beth's eye appointment. Upon our entry a piercing fire alarm begin, continuing to terrorize the occupants for twenty minutes! Someone told us it was a test, but the longer it went the more anxious my Mary felt. She cried and even when it stopped, she couldn't calm down right away. Following that by a couple weeks, we were exiting the library and the door alarm sounded. We went back to the front desk but the librarian waved us on, telling us we were fine--the alarm's just being silly, she said.

Those two incidents were catalysts, apparently, for latent anxiety in my Mary. I had seen definite signs for a few months, but now it seems inevitable--unless, like me, she's up for the fight. If it persists beyond age 7, she could go the way of the family genes.

My Peter had a similar catalyst at age 3.5, when we were at a fire safety fair and unwittingly participated in a mock fire alarm set up in a portable building. It traumatized him and became the catalyst that awakened latent anxiety, which persists today.

Lately there have been times I could have curled up in a ball and just cried and cried. Beth's condition plays with my emotions--good one day, bad another day, good for five days, bad for three. It cruelly bounces me between hope and despair, even though I see signs of God's plan in her life, and in her condition.

She needs me. I'm nearly always there for her, remembering how scary and awful chronic pain must be to a three-year-old child. However, as I've spent more and more time with her, I've continued to try to do all the other things I used to do, including writing on this blog. My dear husband reminded me recently, "Your life isn't like that of most moms. You aren't required to do what they do."

He wasn't putting me down in saying this. Rather, he reminded me that mothering two special-needs children means my life must look different. Less is more.

I read recently that mothers who stay at home full-time report more depression and health problems than mothers who work part-time. Part-time work is healthier, if one believes the article, than full-time motherhood or full-time working. It didn't cite this, but I suspect chore monotony is the greatest contributer to depression. Doing the same chores over and over, and reminding our children of the same things over and over, lends a perceived pointlessness to our daily existence. Faithfully and steadfastly serving a family is not pointless to God, of course. The pointlessness is only a perception of the moment. Most of us fully understand the importance--and eternal rewards--of our home endeavors.

My blog and the online friendships I've enjoyed are that healthy "part-time" dimension in my life, though they take up fewer hours than a traditional part-time job, thankfully. They keep me engaged intellectually, the same as reading does. Intellectual engagement is pretty important, it seems, to balance those ten thousand sweepings of the floor, and the ten thousand pick-ups of a husband's socks.


God designed our minds. We needn't feel guilty about needing something more, as long as it remains secondary to our primary endeavors--loving our Father through worship, Bible reading, and prayer time; nurturing and discipling our children; encouraging and respecting our husbands.

You've heard of choosing a word of the year? Ann has done it for the few years I've read her blog. In order to continue to fight anxiety, my word of the year must be balance. Yes, I need to write. I need my online friendships. What balance will look like isn't quite clear yet. But God knows. I needn't try to figure it out on my own.

As you wrap up your year, think of your own life. What word is the Holy Spirit whispering?

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Merry Christmas 2011

Merry Christmas from our family to yours!

Don't ask me about the colors. I let them choose. :)